Evening the Balance
by horn-head
Summary: “Being a werewolf has it's advantages. I could kill you with anything.” He stopped twirling the cup and enjoyed the feeling of vengeance so close at hand. “I could kill you with this teacup, it might take me a while, but I could do it.”


**AN: For those of you who have already read this, I'm just doing a little bit of editing. I found some things in it that could use a little bit of work. For those of you who haven't, by all means, go ahead and read it, I think I did a great job on this story. (I better have, it took me quite a while to write!)**

**Hey guys. I know this is a definite departure from my usual stuff, but I like it. Hopefully you will, too. Remus goes a bit psycho, which normally doesn't happen when I'm writing him, but it seemed to work pretty well.**

And then there was Remus, the last of the _true _Marauders, the one whom everyone else relied on. The one who didn't own anything except a few very worn and shabby robes and memories of his school days.

It was these happy memories of his friends that made him consider himself rich. Whatever happened to him, he'd always had them to look back on. They were his lifeline, his link to the past and a time when his lycanthropy wasn't looked at with disdain, but compassion. He held on to them with such an iron grip that they had retained all of the detail that time and age usually leaches away.

He had suffered alone after that Halloween when his friends were all taken from him in one form or another. James and Lily died, Sirius was in Azkaban, and Peter was "dead" by Sirius's hand. He had been alone once more and suffered for twelve years in silence.

Then the truth came. The awful, startling truth about everything that had happened that night. It renewed the pain and agony for Remus. But this time he had a friend, someone to share the grief and cry with. Someone to share the memories, both happy and sad.

The few short years that Remus had Sirius back in his life had been better than any he'd ever remembered. He had laughed and talked and felt supported by someone who knew what he had gone through. He had truly loved Sirius as a brother and knew that Sirius felt the same way about him. They were the best of friends once more.

Sirius... Harry was an inspiration for him. When the boy had come to understand that he was innocent, it meant everything for the man to know that James's son knew that he was framed, even if no one else did. The Potters always were and always would be the first priority in Sirius's life. Their lives, and later their deaths, were the motivation for Sirius's continued existence. His inspiration when all other avenues were closed and all hope had been lost. The need for revenge kept him from giving up in Azkaban and even after, when he had existed as a half-starved dog who had only stayed alive because of the food kind strangers left for him and rats he managed to catch.

Remus had felt like dying himself when Sirius fell through the veil. Harry had screamed for him and it was only because he didn't immediately come to him that Remus knew for certain that Sirius was dead. Harry had taken it hard, as he should, and it practically broke Remus's heart to see him so sad.

Remus had wept for weeks, locked in his room at Grimmwauld Place. He mourned the loss of his friend and all of the things he had never told him. Once more, Sirius was ripped from his grasp.

The day he had finally come out of his room proved to be a memorable one. It happened to be the day before full moon and Remus was feeling the wolf particularly strongly. Ambling down to the kitchen for something to relax the agitated state he was currently in, he made himself a cup of tea.

The steam rose invitingly from the little teacup, wafting to Remus and warming his face. He sat back in an old wooden chair and thought of all the Order meetings and meals he had shared with Sirius in this room. The dinners with the Weasleys... the Christmas feast... the first time Harry had joined them here... they were all such good times. A small sad smile crossed his face and he sipped his tea.

Remus had just put a biscuit in his mouth when Kreacher shuffled into the room. He felt the urge to become very violent with the little wretch and stifled it. "Yes? What do you want?", he asked and rubbed his temples in hopes of soothing the instincts that were rising.

Kreacher did an overly dramatic double take and his mouth dropped open. "Oh, Kreacher did not see Master there! Kreacher was just... cleaning Sir."

Remus eyed him suspiciously and frowned. "Kreacher, you need to go into a different room now as I am not inclined to put up with your lies, nor your horrid smell. Leave me, now."

Kreacher started shuffling away, muttering under his breath. "Filthy animal. My mistress would be so unhappy to know that such vile scum is in her house. Oh my Mistress! My poor Mistress's house is over-run with werewolves and blood-traitors, muggles and filth. "

Remus made as if to stand up and Kreacher edged faster towards the door when he saw something he didn't expect; the written plans for the latest maneuver against Voldemort were in the elf's hand.

He immediately went from cool calm and collected to a fuming and uncontrolled rage. They had trusted him enough not to throw him out after they came back from the ministry and now he found out that the little blighter was betraying them all along!

So, Remus did what any lone wolf would do, he promptly performed a full body bind on Kreacher and ripped the parchment out of the frozen elf's grasp. He eyed them carefully, making sure that they were indeed the original plans and turned his gaze to his captive. He loomed over the elf sprawled out on the floor and tsked. "Well, this will not do at all. I was the one who asked for Dumbledore to trust you, to keep you living here as you wanted, and you betray us yet again." The house elf's eyes went from hatred to horror as Remus pulled out his wand and aimed it at him. The wizard gave a feral smile, his pearly white teeth glinting dangerously. "Do you know what happens to betrayers, Kreacher? The Dark Lord isn't the only one who takes revenge." Remus narrowed his eyes and bent over the prone form. "You have taken someone from me, someone whom I cared very much about. As a man, I can forgive that. As a wolf, I can only exact the same fate upon you." Kreacher managed a tiny whimper, which made Mooney take more of a hold over Remus.

He went to curse the pathetic form on the floor, but thought the better of it. Instead he stood and walked over to the table to get his teacup. He brought it back over and licked his lips before twirling it around a finger. He glanced down and smiled lightly. "You know, being a werewolf does have its advantages. For example, I could kill you with anything." He stopped twirling the cup and enjoyed the feeling of vengeance so close at hand, smiled down at Kreacher. "I could kill you with this teacup, it might take me a while, but I could do it."

Tonks came stumbling down the stairs and froze when she saw them. "Remus? Uh, are you feeling alright?"

Remus smiled calmly, it wouldn't do for her to scream and bring the entire Order in when he was getting to the good part. "Yes, Tonks, I'm just fine. Kreacher here was just caught trying to sneak off with some very important information and I'm rectifying a few inequities that I've noticed."

Tonks laughed nervously and inched closer. "A few inequities? Like what?"

Remus shrugged and picked up the elf. "Like the fact that we've done nothing but show him kindness and understanding and he all but spits it back in our face only to have us try again. I aim to change that right now. Would you care to join me?"

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head, knowing full well that a deranged werewolf a day before the full moon was the last person she wanted to be around. "No, that's alright. I, um, was going to have a snack before heading out for my turn watching Harry."

Remus frowned. "Pity. Oh well, I'll have just as much fun by myself, I guess. I'll take him elsewhere so that we won't bother you." Tonks gave him an uneasy smile as he left the room but he hardly noticed. He went upstairs to the attic and set Kreacher down carefully on top of an old box.

He waited a minute, deciding exactly what he wanted to do, and a malevolent gleam came to his eye. "Now, as far as I can see, you've never done a nice thing for any of the Order members. A house elf's responsibilities are to his family. For you, that means Sirius and anybody he made family. I do believe that I enter in right about there, don't I?" Kreacher started gaining back a little movement and his eyes went as big as saucers. Remus disregarded it and went on. "So, that means I can do any number of things here, can't I? Being the sensible, reasonable one, no one would ever suspect good old Remus would make you do anything life-threatening. Right now, I could order you to kill yourself and it would shock everyone who never really knew me. Of course, the only one who ever knew me in any great depth is dead now because of you."

He took out the teacup, the gilt handle glittering softly, and observed Kreacher for a moment before striding over to the window. "I felt the grip on my control lessen slightly when Sirius fell through that veil. Had it not been for your lying I would have my best friend with me here today, but I don't. Just like every other time in my life, I have ended up the lone wolf once more. You killed one of the only things that makes my life bearable, that makes it have some semblance of balance."

Without warning Remus swung the teacup at the windowsill and shattered it. He turned and stalked to Kreacher, a few jagged edges still clinging to the fine porcelain handle in his hand. Grabbing the elf by the neck, he threw it against the wall with a sickening thud.

Mooney sneered and walked over to the crumpled heap in the corner, willing it to show any signs of life.

He noticed that Kreacher wasn't breathing and nudged the lump on the floor with his foot. He frowned, knowing that after the full moon he would probably be sickened with what he just did. For now, he just nodded in confirmation that the vile thing was dead and balance had returned.

His only snag in this little improvisation of justice that he was carrying out was that he didn't know what to do with the body. After a minute, the sadistic side of his mind came roaring back with one thought. _Put it in Malfoy's bed._ He laughed at the justice and simplicity of it all, just too perfect. He went and got the old blankets that Kreacher slept in and brought them up after scourgifying the filth and muck out of them. He sighed and wrapped the body up. Gathering the bundle in his arms, he disapparated into night, intent on his mission.

**A/N: Well, that was different for me, wasn't it folks? I had fun with it, though. The idea for killing someone with a teacup came from my absolutely awesome beta-er and cowriter for my other story (and basically for this one as well since I used her help so much) Prof. Pendragon. She was in the car one day and threatened someone like that (her sister, who was doing what sisters do and annoying the crap out of her.)**

**Anyway, recognition has to go to her for creating the line, "I could kill you with anything. I could kill you with this teacup, it might take me a while, but I could do it." It was what that last part was based off of, and I really owe her all the credit.**

**Well, if enough people want me to, I could create a challenge based off of this. Actually, I already have but I'll only post it if enough people want me to so I don't waste my time and yours.**

**So, please R&R and let me know what you think. (Criticism is also welcomed, for those of you who hated this.)**

**(BTW, for those of you reading our other story, we haven't given up on it yet, I just can't find the power cord for my laptop and almost all of the chapter is on there.)**


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